Yes You Do Jack Yes you Do
by Here Though You've Forgotten
Summary: So you aint got any family.....Yes you do Jack, Yes you do
1. Chapter 1

1

It was a night like any other, though the city never slept, the newsies sure did.

At least almost all the newsies slept.

Jack Kelly was awake. Jack Kelly was almost always awake.

Jack rarely slept anymore.

He made stupid excuses about never going to bed until all the other newsies did. "Got to watch out for my boys!" He'd say with a hearty laugh and a grin. But who ever asked the question would always walk away wondering if they had missed the joke.

Oh well. He was Jack Kelly, The strike leader who took on Pulitzer himself!

If anyone had a right to be a little confusing sometimes, it was Jack.

Jack knew his excuses were lame, and only the younger boys bought them. There just wasn't anything else to say. As he sat on the fire escape of the lodging house, looking out at the Manhattan skyline, he could hear his past excuses roaming through his thoughts.

"Jack why don't you sleep?"

"Cant"

"Why cant ya? Afraid of the dark?"

"No I stay awake to scare the monsters away so that Youse don't hafta be, go to sleep Snipes"

I can't sleep yet Kloppman! Not all the boys are in yet! What if the bulls catch Snoddy because I wasn't awake to let him in? What if Spot Soaks Race for cheatin in a card game? See Klopp? I gotta stay awake until all da boys are back."

"Shut up Blink, Ise standin guard over yer udda eye. Wouldn't want someone to steal it while Youse sleepin wouldya?"

"Why am I still up? I should ask you the same question. You got back pretty late yourself last night"

Jack could never even imagine telling the truth. Only Race knew the truth. And Jack didn't have to tell him, he already knew. Race and Jack had been friends longer than anyone in the lodging house.

Best friends since the age of six, there was nothing about Jack that Race didn't know and Race had no secrets from Jack.

Race knew that Jack didn't sleep and he knew why. He also knew that Jack didn't talk about it.

He knew why Jack wouldn't tell anyone, but still he worried for his friend.

Race sat up in bed and looked out the window. He saw Jack sitting quietly outside, the same as he did every night.

Just thinking, he told the boys when they asked what he was doing. The newsies often caught Jack staring aimlessly into space. He told them he was thinking

The younger boys thought he was dozing off, catching up on the sleep that no one ever saw him get.

To the older boys who he trusted, Jack was more confiding. He told them he was dreaming about Santa Fe, about leaving New York, getting away from the headlines, deadlines and rush of a big city.

That was part of the truth. Though they never discussed it or even mentioned it, Race knew that when Jack sat up late at night he wasn't just thinking.

Race knew Jack was remembering,

Remembering her.


	2. Chapter 2

PART II

Glancing at Snoddy's pocket watch dangling from the bunk to his right, Race slipped out the window, shivering at the chill.

Quietly, Race sat down beside Jack, who made no indication of noticing his friend. The two sat side by side, each lost in their own thoughts yet remembering the same things.

Flashback 

_Race picked Boidy up and swung her around, yelling and screaming, "WE BEAT EM WE BEAT EM WE KICKED THEIR REARS JUST LIKE CRUTCHY SAID!" Putting Boidy down and staring into her deep green eyes. Jack pushed his way through the crowd to place one arm around Race, and one around Boidy, The three of them marching down the streets, singing every song they knew. Jack and Race's voices offset wonderfully with Boidy's high soprano. Then Teddy Roosevelt's carriage came charging through the crowd. Jack set off for Santa Fe, but came back after thinking it through. For Racetrack this was the happiest moment of his life. Dancing through the streets with his arm around Boidy, life couldn't be any better. It stayed that way for a week or two, perhaps even a month before the joy left Boidy's eyes again. Instead of laughter and sparkle, her eyes became sad, lonely and she couldn't stop thinking about-_

_(End Flashback)_

No Race thought to himself, NO Remember the good times, keep those ones in your mind.

There is no use in recalling the pain.

It will only make you miserable.

Remember the good times.

Race sat on the roof with his best friend in the world and dreamed up an ending to the story of him and Boidy.

The story ended with Race and Boidy getting married and having 3 children. 2 Boys with their father's mischievous spirit and love of gambling, and a tiny girl with her mother's eyes.

Race sighed and leaned back against the window ledge, If only dreams really did come true….

Jack was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed Race's arrival. Unfortunately, Jack's melancholy train of thought was not so easily derailed.

_Flashback_

_Taking Les down from his shoulders, Jack made his way through the crowd to Race and Boidy. Arm in arm the three of them marched through the streets of New York like they owned the place. And for that one day, They did. The excited cheers, yelling and shouting and singing had just began to die down, when suddenly it began again! The crowd of Newsies and other workers gave a great roar, as Teddy Roosevelt's carriage made its way through the crowd. When asked where he wanted to go, Jack jumped at the chance, and headed off to Santa Fe. He would have hopped on a train and left too, if it hadn't been for Boidy. The girl knew him better than he knew himself and she understood his reasons. She whispered something in his ear and pushed him into the carriage. All the way to the train yard, Her words rang in Jack's ears. When at last they arrived, Jack took a deep breath and asked the driver to turn around._

_Upon returning, he was quickly sucked into the cheerful spirit again. His good friends, David and Sarah greeted him. Caught in the moment he laughed and kissed Sarah. She laughed, knowing he only liked her as a friend. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw a girl, Boidy's best friend run away in tears; her left hand wound tightly in her hair._

_End Flashback_

He had seen her, but not in time. She avoided him and he did not have the courage to seek her out.

He convinced himself that it had nothing to do with him. She had probably been teased by one of the Delancey Brothers. It was a well known fact that Morris had it in for her.

Surely had nothing to do with him. Of course it wasn't his fault! It was ridiculous to think that him kissing Sarah had made her that upset. Wasn't it?

Jack had almost managed to convince himself that Twirlah's tears had nothing to do with him. But the thought stuck in his mind, If It wasn't his fault, then why did Twirlah constantly avoid him?

There they sat, two boys remembering the same event through two different eyes. Two different perspectives, two different endings.

They stayed outside, oblivious to the cold night, until Race got up and tapped Jack on the shoulder.

"Come on Man, Kloppman's gonna be getting the boys up soon. We should at least pretend that we got some sleep last night.

"Yeah you'se right, Hey Race you gonna be too tired to sell today? Think it will affect your poker game any? Remember we've got Brooklyn tonight!"

"In your dreams Jackie-boy, In your dreams", Race chuckled and then quietly whispered, "Besides Jackie-Boy, you ain't the only one not sleepin so good lately. I just try not to remember so much."

As the two boys slipped back into their bunks, Race whispered into the darkness,

"Thanks Jack, you'se a lot bettah company than me deck o' cards."

In the ten minutes before Kloppman woke the boys up, Racetrack drifted into a fitful sleep. Jack didn't.

Jack never slept anymore


	3. Chapter 3

PART III 

The old man made his ways slowly up the lodging house stairs. He sighed when he came across the strange sight that was quickly becoming commonplace.

Jack Kelly wasn't in his bunk, and by the looks of his bed. The bunk had never been used. Jack's hat and boots were gone as well.

If this had been any other newsie, Kloppman would have been happy. One less person to wake up. With any other newsie Kloppman would have been excited, He started early today; he'll have enough to pay his board tonight!

But this wasn't any other newsie. This was Jack. As Kloppman woke the boys up he continued to worry about Jack. Jack had never been an early riser. He would crash into bed as soon as the poker games ended, and no matter how much sleep he got, Jack never responded well to a morning wake up call.

But that had changed. Kloppman had seen this before. You can't judge a Newsie by their actions during the day. It's at night when a boy's true self comes out.

When a newsie first came to the lodging house, they rarely slept. Most missed their parents, were uncomfortable in the squeaky bunks, or were too busy enjoying their new found freedom.

Those would be fine, given time. Old Kloppman knew there were two behaviors to watch for. There were the boys that screamed, and the boys who months later, didn't sleep.

Jack had never fit any category. When he had showed up in the lodging house at the age of seven, he had slept like a baby every night. Kloppman was horrified. If a newsie could sleep like a rock at the lodging house on their first night, it meant that wherever they had lived before, they had been too frightened to sleep.

The years passed and Jack's pattern never changed. He had slept soundly every night, safe and warm under Kloppman's roof.

That was until Flame left.

Only one person at the lodging house other than Jack and Kloppman knew how much that hurt. You see, only Race knew that Jack had an older sister.

Flame was four years older than Jack and his twin sister Birdy. Song bird was her full newsie name, but most called her Birdy, or more accurately, Boidy.

Jack was twelve when Flame left for Santa Fe. He had been in and out of trouble with the law, and had to change his name. As long as he had been at the lodging house Jack had been Jack.

Flame had called him that. She explained that she couldn't bear to call him Francis after their jerk of a father.

Jack didn't remember too much about his father but he knew that he loved Flame and she could call him anything she wanted.

In the end, when he escaped from the refuge, it wasn't a huge ordeal to switch from Jack Sullivan to Jack Kelly.

Flame hadn't changed her name. Birdy changed hers later, after Flame had left. No one wanted Snyder to get to curious about why a girl named Birdy Sullivan had a brother named Jack Kelly, especially while he was still on the lookout for a Francis Sullivan.

When Flame took off for Santa Fe to escape Snyder, Jack had stopped sleeping. After many long talks with Kloppman, he agreed to try, Jack became a screamer. He would sleep fitfully for an hour, than awake wailing, haunted by nightmares he could never recall.

Months later, Jack began to sleep again. His life went on, but Kloppman still watched him closely.

Jack was doing it again, but this time was different. This time Jack denied it. He told Kloppman that he slept but never went to bed before all his boys were in.

He refused to talk to Kloppman, thought he was hiding it, but Kloppman knew. He saw Jack, and sometimes Race, late at night sitting on the fire escape, smoking and thinking.

Kloppman knew that Jack blamed himself. It was only natural, abandoned by two sisters, one of them his twin, It was no wonder Jack dreamed of running away…


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV 

Back in the lodging house, the boys were waking up…….

Racetrack got up to realize that the bunk above him was empty, as he had since Boidy left, Jack had left before anyone else. Race hoped he was making enough extra money to make his new routine worth the boys' questions.

A cheerful mood was in the air as the boys headed off to greet the world, literally.

Unfortunately for the rest of the lodging house, Race was a morning person. To him, there was no better way to start the day than annoying the heck out of all of his friends. This included lame jokes, pranks that rarely went off as planned and witty comments that no one else understood

One of these days, someone was gonna murder Race. And no one would miss him until lunch.

When at last the sleepy newsies had made their way over to the world building, Jack was already selling his second stack of papes. The sun was shining, but it wasn't too hot. The Delancey brothers were even sick that day. But Jack was not in a good mood

Normally, even after a long night of thinking and remembering, Jack could manage to smile and crack a joke for his boys. He would get them all to dance in the streets, or even make a bet with Race just to see them laugh

But not today. Today Jack couldn't even pretend. The dreams and thoughts that kept him from sleeping had invaded his waking mind. All of Jack's insecurities, fears, pain from being abandoned came out during the night.

But this was morning. He had made extra money, Race was at his side desperately trying to get him to grin, and the Delancey brothers were to sick to pick on his younger boys. Everything should have been fine, shouldn't it?

The fact remained that it wasn't.

Jack headed to the Jacob's house when he was done selling. He knew that they would let him sit on their roof, or fire escape, and just think.

Sarah watched Jack through her bedroom window. He had been sitting on the fire escape for hours, and the sun was going down. She sighed and went outside to try and get him to talk.

She sat down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I know that you don't want to talk to me. but you have to talk to someone. If you can't talk to me, talk to Dave, or Race, or Blink or Mush or even Skittery. You can't keep this bottled up for so long. you're gonna explode"

Jack sat still for almost ten minutes. Sarah stood up to go inside, when he put a hand on her arm and she sat back down.

"Sarah…." Jack was chewing on his lip and his words came out uncertainly, "Have you ever been abandoned?"


	5. Chapter 5

**PART V**

_Have you ever been abandoned?_

Sarah sat stone still in shock, not sure how to answer Jack's question. If she lied, then he wouldn't tell her his problem and he would become more depressed,

But if she told the truth, he would pity her. Sarah Jacobs wanted no one's pity.

She sat still for so long that Jack became nervous, he pit a reassuring arm around her and said in what he hoped was a comforting voice, "Its fine Sarah you don't have to tell me, I didn't mean to pry."

"No Jack I want to tell you. But what i'm going to tell you, I don't want you to tell anyone. All right? David knows this but Les doesn't. I don't really know why, but I know I don't want Les to know."

After Jack promised to keep her secret, Sarah began her tale.

"When my mother was young, She met a man named George Edwards. He and my mother fell in love and when she was sixteen years old, they married. Her mother, my Grandmother was beside herself with anger because George was not Jewish.

She said he was the worst sort of person, said he was scum and filth and lots of names that aren't worth mentioning. Because she had married a non-Jewish man, my grandmother considered my Mom dead and held a funeral for her.

My Grandmother lives about three blocks away from our apartment but she is too embarrassed, and refuses to forgive my mother, after pronouncing her dead to all her friends and relatives.

My Grandmother may have been wrong to pronounce my mother dead, and estrange her from all of her family, but she was right about George.

After a year of marriage, my mother found out she was pregnant. She was hugely disappointed when George did not receive the news with joy, but instead with sadness.

She told me that as the months went on, George stayed out later and later, and she saw less and less of him.

One day, when my mother was standing in the kitchen, George walked in. He had not set foot in their house for over a week, and his breath reeked of alcohol. He declared that he was leaving, took all of their money, and walked out.

About a month after George left, my Mother had her baby, a little girl who she named Sarah.

She got a job at a factory, and paid an old lady to watch me during the day. Two years later, she met and fell in love with a journalist named Mayer Jacobs.

Not only did Mayer not mind that my mother had a little girl, but he loved her. And when they married, Mayer adopted Sarah as his own.

They had two children named David and Les, I love my Dad, I really do. But I cant help but feel so awful because my real Father left when he heard about me." by this time tears were streaming down Sarah's face, Jack's arms were around her and he was trying his best to comfort her. Sarah took a deep breath, and went on, "I know that I am loved but I still wonder a lot why he didn't want me!"

Jack hugged Sarah tight, and did his best to assure his friend that she was loved. She was one of his very best friends. Her family loved her very much and it was Her real father's loss that he was afraid of a baby.

As he walked back to the lodging house in the dark, Jack felt slightly better knowing that he wasn't the only one who had been abandoned. It did help to realize that Sarah understood what he felt.

But Jack still couldn't sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Dude i dont own it

Authors note: YAY! for updates ! i had to get this up fast so Twirlah didnt kill me.

carryin da bannah,

Annie

PART VI

Another busy day, another sleepless night.

Jack was slowly killing himself, and he knew it

He didn't know how or why, he just knew that boys who didn't sleep, didn't live. He'd seen it happen before. Jack had been around long enough, he had seen many boys die. Being a newsie wasn't all a fine life, carrying da bannah, and dancing in da streets.

It was mostly just the young newsies. The ones who after months in the lodging house, never learned to sleep. Kloppman would talk with them and they would tell him they were fine, they felt safe, had no worries.

But they still wouldn't sleep.

Most of them were afraid, and too frightened to admit it. They were the ones with abusive parents, or had worked practically as slaves for who ever would give them food every week or so.

Jack hated thinking about these kid's pasts like it was no big deal, but in the newsie world, it really wasn't. Everyone had a past. They all had problems but no one talked about them. No kid came to the lodging house without a few skeletons in his closet. No one chose to be a newsie.

Sometimes an older kid would get it. Usually it was over a girl, Jack had seen that too. Jack had watched as his mentor, his hero, his leader, his friend, had died that way. For the first time in his life, Jack had cried.

He still missed him, when he allowed himself to remember. Smoke had taken him in, taught him and his sisters how to sell. Jack still remembered Smoke's thick Irish brogue, giving Jack the nickname that still stuck, as well as the advice that kept him alive, "Remember Jackie-boy, Headlines don't sell papes, Newsies sell papes."

Smoke's only fault was caring too much. He was so unlike many of the other long term newsies. Like them,he had been a "street rat" almost since birth. But unlike so many street kids, Smoke had never turned hard. He still trusted, and this would be his downfall.

Smoke loved his girlfriend, Brit more than anyone else. He and Brit had been dating for three years. Smoke had been saving money since he was a kid, so that when he finally met the girl of his dreams, he would be able to buy her a ring.

When Smoke was eighteen years old, he had finally saved enough money. He bought Brit a simple but beautiful gold ring, and asked her to marry him. Brit said nothing in reply. Her face turned white and she ran back to her lodging house in Midtown.

Smoke never saw Brit again. Her landlady, Mrs. Ashby found a note and gave it to Smoke. The note was short and simple, It said only this:

Dear Smoke,

by now you will know that I have left. I returned to my home, England to marry a stranger. My uncle, who is my last remaining relative arranged this marriage six months ago. I am sorry for not telling you sooner.

Sincerely,

Amelia Huntington

(Brit)

Smoke's heart, so full of love for Brit, was shattered to pieces. His wounds were too deep to ever fully heal. Smoke put on a good show, only the closest of his friends ever noticed, but Jack saw it.

Smoke never slept again

Jack watched, and tried to help Smoke when he saw his health failing. For months he appeared normal, but then his symptoms really stood out. Smoke was always tired, but never slept, His tiredness only got worse over time. Almost a year after Brit left to be married, Smoke slipped into a coma.

A week later, Smoke died.

The doctor used big words that none of the newsies understood. But they stuck in Jack's head. When he asked, the doctor explained why Smoke had died. He said that a person's body needed sleep to function. Not sleeping for almost a year was like leaving all the machines in a factory on for a year. Eventually the body, like the machines would burn out, too worn out to keep on living. The doctor called it, Fatal Insomnia.

It had been two months since they left. At first Jack would sleep, to wake screaming with nightmares. Every night the same dream, an unnamed terror he could never remember.

It had been a month since Jack had slept at all. Race was better than Jack. The nightmares came, but they were just nightmares, nothing more. Race never saw the feud, but he felt the sorrow that came afterwards, the pain he still felt whenever he heard the all too familiar sound of a train whistle.

Jack knew he needed help, and soon

Jack knew he was running out of time...

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	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Dude it aint mine

PART VII

A Newsie's fears may have been open and obvious in the dead of night, but the morning light washed them completely away,

Or so the others thought...

While Jack's troubles never truly left him, it was only at night that he was open and vulnerable, fixated on the sorrows of his life. When morning rolled around, Jack looked stressed, if not exactly tired. Few newsies would look for signs of exhaustion in the early morning.

Every morning Race would wake, see Jack's empty bunk and sigh to himself. Racetrack was lying and he knew it. He was deceiving himself, Jack and everyone else. He knew what their reactions would be. Jack wouldn't want Race to worry, he would feel even guiltier because he was hurting his friend.

The other newsies would think that he was paranoid. Race was trying so hard to deny it. To believe that he was just being paranoid. But Race knew it was true. Everyday Jack looked more and more like Smoke.

During the day, Jack and Race would keep up the ruse that everything was alright. Every morning Race would buy his papes and go stand by Jack who was already half done with his first stack.

Then Race headed down to the tracks, to gamble away all he had earned. This life was so familiar. So old and comfortable. ...Yet so strange.

O0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

As darkness fell, Racetrack walked back to the lodging house, his pockets emptied and his cigars stolen. Needless to say, he was not in the best of moods. His stomach rumbling, Race was slowly coming to accept the fact that he would soon have to leave the tracks forever, and find a new selling spot. Race couldn't go to the tracks without gambling, and he wouldn't survive if he didn't have money to eat any more.

Whenever Race went to the tracks, he did it for the thrill, and because he loved it. Race never won anymore, he didn't expect to.

_Flashback_

_Race carried Boidy piggy back, all the way from the tracks, both of them grinning ear to ear. Race had a brand new cigar sticking out of his face, and Boidy finally had a new hat. Her old one had been wearing thin. Race put Boidy back on the ground, kissed her, and asked, his brown eyes dancing, "So Boidy, What's da secret, how d'ya always know which horse is gonna win? I'm telling yah, I ain't never won at da tracks that much when I ain't wit ya? How d'ya get so darn lucky?"_

_Boidy laughed and replied, "I ain't lucky Race! I jest know a thing or two about horses dats all! did I evah tell ya mi faddah was a groom? He knew da tracks and da horses inside and out. He loved ta gamble too. That's how he landed himself in jail. Bet more dan he owned. More dan he could make in ten lifetimes! Stupid idiot!",Birdy laughed and continued. "Youse da lucky one Race, I don't know a thing about gambling and you know everything! you can tell when youse bein swindled, or when a fellah don't have no money. ya taught me ta play pokah, and now i'm only second ta you," Race hugged Birdy and playfully responded, "Youse right Boidy, I is da lucky one! Ise got you." Birdy hugged him, and they walked back to the lodging house, hand in hand. _

_End Flashback_

Racetrack hadn't won at the tracks since Birdy left. He knew he needed to learn from her father's mistakes and stop before it was too late. Racetrack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. If Kloppman didn't spot him the money, he would hafta sleep on the street. And he didn't have any money for papers tomorrow. He shivered against the evening breeze, He missed her so much. If only he hadn't been such an idiot. He was lucky to have had her. But his luck ran out,

Literally.

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	8. Chapter 8

PART VIII 

Night fell, and once again Race and Jack could be found sitting on the fire escape, wallowing in their misery. Both abandoned, for different reasons, by the same girl. Jack because of his pride, and Race because of his habits, or to put it bluntly, his addiction.

No Race wasn't into drugs, and cigar smoking was commonplace among the newsies. While he gambled a lot, it was for fun and contrary to popular belief, Race could walk away from a bet if he needed to.

Race was addicted to running. Yeah that's right, running. Running and hiding were skills he had learned early on in his short childhood. His mother had taught him the necessary skills for survival in the Higgins household. Ten minutes before Dad came home was run time. No one wanted to be around when Dad came home. Race, Tony back then, had never seen his Dad come home from work. But he knew that if he ever were, it wouldn't be pretty.

One day, Race's mom told him to run, and he prepared to take off. At the last moment, she pulled him back. He glanced at her and noticed tears streaming down her face. She held him in a tight embrace, then stepped back and looked into his eyes. "Do you love me Tony?" she asked in a hard determined, voice. But Race knew her too well. He could hear the pain behind the forced calm, and it scared him. "Yes Mama I love you, what's wrong?" he asked, clearly upset. "I can't tell you, but Tony, look at me. I need you to run. If you love me at all, you will never come back. Do you understand me?" "Race felt broken inside, for he loved his mom, but he decided that if she could be strong then he could be too. Tony stared hard at his mom, memorizing her face, the face he would never see again. Then without looking back, he turned and fled into the night.

Race had been found by Smoke, who told him he should run at the tracks, he'd beat the horses. Thus Racetrack was born and little Tony Higgins forgotten, left in the dust behind pounding footsteps.

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ok i know that this is way too short. But i had to get it up soon and it seemed weird to combine it with another chapter. Please dont hate me! 

REVIEW PLEASE!


	9. Chapter 9

If Jack had one vice, it was pride. Though he had never declared himself leader, the newsies followed Jack anyways. They all looked up to him, and at times, it went straight to his head. He was a good guy, but he tended to get caught up with being in charge and forget about certain people.

Chiefly his twin sister. Birdy loved him, and Jack loved her. At times however, Birdy felt ignored, passed over for the duties of leadership. Duties that were not really Jack's responsibility, but he did them to remind his boys, and his sister, who was in charge.

Needless to say, Birdy did not take this treatment well. She had always had a bit of a fiery temper, and being ignored did not sit too well with her. When Birdy was angry, people knew.

This was probably the main reason she found her boyfriend so hard to understand. Racetrack had always been running, hiding from his own emotions. That was why he had such a good poker face. He preferred to shut off his emotions completely, when he was in over his head. He was good at it too. But Birdy had never had to run, she could hide her emotions for a short while, but at the end of the day, you could find her sitting with some poor unsuspecting soul, while she spilled out whatever was bothering her.

Race couldn't do that. It bothered Birdy, that when Race was the angriest, was when he seemed the calmest. When he was fuming insides, his face and actions would be completely devoid of emotions. Often, she had sat with Him, begged him to share his anger, to tell her, tell someone, but he had hidden, retreated inside himself. A bad day started to look up as soon as you could laugh about it with a friend, but Race never did. He had been running for too long. Race was hooked.

So Birdy had left, fed up with Race's running, she figured he would understand why she was running, since he did it all the time. Fed up with Jack's bossiness, she was sick and tired of being ordered around, just the leader's sister. On top of all that, she was angry with Jack for continuing to break her best friend's heart over and over again. So Twirlah went with her.

Once Birdy and Twirlah left, Race stopped hiding. His grief was too big to hide, besides, everyone expected him to be upset anyways. Jack was no longer proud to be leader. How can you be proud when your whole family has abandoned you? When even your twin cant stand to be in the same city as you?

So for four long months, there was nothing. Race had nightmares, Jack didn't sleep at all. Things were sure looking down for the boys .

)ooo0o0o0o0o0o00o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0ooo0oo0oo0oo00o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0oo0o00

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, children were laughing. But none of this improved Jack's mood. Over and over through his mind, he was replaying the worst day of his life. Sarah said that he couldn't block it out forever. It would help to come out of hiding, and finally let himself remember. Stupid Sarah.

Jack knew that he shouldn't blame her. It wasn't her fault that she didn't understand. Jack often talked to her when he was feeling down, which was pretty much constantly now. But Sarah had no way of knowing that reliving the pain of his memories would never help Jack. She had no way of knowing how bad his memories were. She had no way of knowing, because Jack had never told her.

He had told her of his abandonment. She knew how and why Jack had been left by his family, first his father, for a life of crime, then his mother, although she had not gone willingly, no one really chose death. He had been abandoned by Flame, though she left to protect him, and himself. Then he was abandoned by Birdy, out of anger and frustration.

Jack told Sarah how he felt, and she tried to help him understand. But Sarah was no mind reader, and no expert on feelings either. She only knew what she herself had experienced, and what Jack told her. Jack knew better than to hold her responsible for what he had withheld, but he still did.

Jack had followed her advice, sat on her roof and remembered what he had tried for months to forget. He remembered her growing anger, his neglect, his plain old stupidity, the fight, and worst of all. He remembered them leaving.

_Flashback_

"I'm not a child Jack! Or should I say Francis! Or Cowboy! Since you seem to think i'm not your sister anymore, never mind your Twin! Never mind the fact that i've always been with you for your entire life! Who picked you up when you got dumped for the first time! Not Flame, who you spend hours writing letters to, letters she never returns, probly never even reads! Not Race! Oh, he might have let you off easy in a poker game, made a joke, noticed when you didn't want to talk about it, he helped you hide your hurt and your pain! WELL HE WOULD! That's all he does himself. Do you know why he's called Racetrack? It's got nothing to do with horses, or gambling! Its because he's always running. If you put him on a track, he'd probly beat mosta da horses! Race is always runnin from his problems, so of course he'd help you run from yours, maybe he'll teach ya ta hide too! how to back away from a fight, how to be a coward? Just like his Mama taught him! What's da mattah wit u Jack? Are you forgettin who soothed your bruised ego, held you while you cried? watched the door so yer boys wouldn't see ya upset over a stupid goil? IT WAS ME JACK!

_Who cared for ya when you was sick? Not yer precious newsies! The ones who "ALWAYS CARE FOAH EACH UDDAH" No they was out sellin da papes! Carryin da bannah, just like every day! You ignore me foah them, but when you need help, they ignore you! Yer blasted pride in bein da leadah is gonna be yah downfall Jackie-boy! Fine You ignore ME! fine! Tell me to go away, leave you alone FINE! I CAN DEAL WITH THAT! _

_BUT WHEN YOU CONTINUE TO BREAK MY FRIEND'S HEART WITH OUT A SINGLE THOUGHT, NOT FINE!_

_She Loves you Jack! and I know you like her too, but you continue to toy with her teasing her, making her think shes something special, bein sweet and kind when its just you around, then tossin her brutally aside, whenever some uddah goil walks by! And you aint gonna do it no moah! IM Takin A LESSON OUTTA YOAH BOOK RACE! IM RUNNIN! MAYBE ILL UNDERSTAND WHY YOU ALWAYS GOTTA RUN AND HIDE RACE! FEELINS AINT GONNA HOIT YA! THEY AINT! SO HIDIN FROM EM IS POINTLESS! BUT IM RUNNIN NOW RACE! JUST LIKE YOU! _

_Oh and one more thing Jack," Boidy's voice dropped down to a whisper, it was obvious that she was about to break down right there. "You sing your songs, to make da boys feel bad. You tell David and Sarah lies about Santa Fe. You think I don't hear yer songs, think I don't hear you sing about your perfect life. But I hear ya Jack! Ya say you aint got any family, Jack, But you Do Jack, Yes you do."_

_Birdy fled the room in sobs, leaving a stunned Jack, and a heartbroken Racetrack in her wake. _

_End Flashback_

Sarah had told Jack to remember. That feeling the pain would lessen it. Decrease the power that memories held over him. So he remembered. But the trouble with feelings, is once you let them out, the wont go back into a box, the back of your mind. So Jack replayed them. Over and over.

She had helped him remember; Now he could not forget. Rather obviously, Jack was not in the greatest of moods when he first saw the letter, sitting on Kloppman's desk.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Dude it ain't mine 

**Part X**

Not all of the boys were orphans, and not all of them were abandoned forever. A few really did have parents out west, or somewhere else who were coming back for them. Parents who wrote to their kids, and missed them every day.

So it was not unusual for Kloppman to get a letter from Santa Fe. Not unusual for it to be a letter for one of the boys. What was unusual was for Kloppman to get a letter for Jack.

Jack had told many people that his parents were out west. It sounded far less shameful than, "My mom is dead and my father's in jail." No one gave sympathy to a prisoner's kid. It wasn't Jack's fault, but they still didn't buy his papers if they knew. Life's unfair, but Jack wasn't bothered. It's why he turned to lying.

The world looked a whole lot better when you saw it the way you wanted. Jack's life was so much better, if his parents had ditched him and were coming back someday. It was way better than the truth.

Obviously, he knew it wasn't true. It still helped though, Jack couldn't understand why, but somehow it helped.

But after the strike, the illusion had been dropped. Jack's mask was stripped away, and everyone knew the truth. Snyder had ruined it all. He had torn down the walls that Jack had spent years building. Walls that kept Jack safe from the shame of his family. Walls that let Jack sleep at night.

It didn't matter really; it wasn't like no one had ever lied about their pasts before. Half the runaways were really orphans, who didn't want to acknowledge their parent's death, and half the abandoned kids were really runaways, ashamed of giving up on their families, their lives.

The weird thing was, nothing changed. Sure Jack had lied, whatever, big deal. It didn't change anything. So he didn't have folks in Santa Fe! He was still a cowboy! Wasn't he?

So of course everyone was very interested when Jack received a letter from Santa Fe. Everyone knew that he didn't have family there. He had lied! Hadn't he? The rumors abounded; only one person knew the truth, and for once in his life, Racetrack Higgins was being quiet.

No one knew about Flame. She had left three years before the strike. Said she couldn't write to him. "What if the bulls had found the letter?" They were still after her! And as far as the bulls knew, Jack Kelly and Flame Sullivan had never once crossed paths.

The newsies knew that Birdy had left. They were there, most of them. Even newcomers like Davey had crossed her path. And Song Bird Kelly was rarely forgotten.

But Birdy hadn't gone to Santa Fe. That was too mean, after she begged Jack to return, or so the story went. Birdy was probably somewhere in Harlem, or lying low in Queens. She was a city girl, wouldn't make it in the country. Too much street smarts in her for the open plains.

No, Birdy wouldn't have gone to Santa Fe! Would She?

* * *

After his terrible day, plagued by bad headlines and haunting memories, the most painful in his past, Jack walked in and saw the letter on Kloppman's desk.

He took the letter outside, away from prying eyes. Jack prayed that it would be from Flame. Maybe she would come back! Maybe the bulls had stopped looking for her! Then another thought occurred to him. Flame was 19 years old, maybe she wasn't coming back. What if Flame was getting married and was going to stay in Santa Fe forever! Jack wasn't sure if he could deal with that.

Jack quickly slit open the envelope, and looked at the contents. Out tumbled two things, a note, and a drawing.

The drawing was accurate, if not very inspired. It pictured three girls, the first two , Jack recognized in instantly. The short stature, and bright red hair, immediately identified the first as Birdy. The other girl had curly brown locks, one twisted around her finger, Jack let his gaze linger on her for a moment, before turning his attention to the third girl.

The third, girl, he had never seen before, she had curly black hair, and freckles. The picture had a caption that had been hastily scrawled. "_Birdy, Twirlah and Monica, Music sensashuns_"

Jack smiled a bit, recognising his sister's bad spelling and untidy scrawl.

Apprehensive about reading what she had to say, Jack opened the note. Deep down, Jack did not expect to like what she had to say. He expected angry words, screaming off the page. He feared but was prepared for a tongue lashing like he had gotten the last time they spoke. Jack hoped for an apology, or an explanation for running. He got neither.

Scrawled across a page of note book paper, were these words:

_Jack-_

_Meet Me at the station _

_April third or il soak ya_

_-Birdy_

Jack dropped the note and ran screaming outta the lodgin house while his boys looked on with amusement.

REVIEW OR ILL SOAK YA!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer : Aint mine

PART XI

Race walked dejectedly back from Sheepshead, depressed after his fourth day of only watching. Contrary to popular belief, Race was not addicted to gambling. He could stop if he wanted to. The thing was, Race had never wanted to. But it was different now. Something had changed.

After selling, Race still went to the races. He enjoyed them a lot. He loved the excitement, the shouts of the jockey's, the tension in the air. But the races no longer put money in his pockets, so he had stopped betting.

As much as he loved the races, it was so much more thrilling when you had a dime or two riding on the outcome. There was nothing like the joy of watching "your horse" cross the finish line, making your way over to claim your money. Race had loved going to sleep with the knowledge that he had enough to pay Weasel tomorrow if he wanted! Which of course he never did.

But it had been months since Race had won, and his cheeks were growing gaunt from missed meals. Race wasn't lucky anymore. And he knew why. As much of a loner as he seemed to be, Race missed his selling partner.

Suddenly, Race heard a wild yelling. He turned toward the noise just in time to see Jack come hurtling around a corner, to tackle Race to the ground. After he had dusted himself off, and hit Jack, "Whatsa mattah wit u? What da heck was dat? Youse mad u knows dat?", Race noticed that Jack hadn't stopped grinning.

"What da heck was DAT?" Race spat out for the second time, Jack began jumping up and down, He shouted at the top of his lungs, "I GOT A LETTER FROM SANTA FE! GUESS WHO SENT IT RACE? GUESS WHO SENT IT?" before Racetrack had a chance to say anything, Jack was off again. "BOIDY SENT IT! I GOT A LETTER FROM BOIDY!" AND GUESS WHAT ELSE RACE? GUESS WHAT ELSE?" Again, Race had no time to speak before Jack caught his breath and screamed out the best part of his news, "SHES COMIN HOME IN TWO DAYS!"

For the first time in months, Race dropped his poker face. A look of shock, as well as pure joy quickly replaced the I'm-fine-but-could-you-be-any-more-annoying? look that usually was displayed on Racetrack's features lately.

Jack turned in confusion, as Race took off running. "Wheah is youse goin?" he called to him. Race laughed and called back, "Da Tracks Moron! Ise placin all me dough on dat little filly I saw dis moinin. Boidy's coming home! Today toined out ta be lucky aftah all!"

Jack threw his head back and laughed loudly, causing several people to stare, but for once Jack didn't care. It didn't matter if these people saw Manhattan's fearless leader laughing like an idiot, because today Jack wasn't Manhattan's leader. He was simply Birdy's brother.

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((000000000000000000((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Please review! I know its short but please dont hate me!

carryin da bannah,

Annie


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Ain't mine

XII

Jack, still laughing at the antics of his best friend, made his way to the lodging house. He walked in the door, and looked around. The lodging house was in shambles. Wood chips were everywhere, dust covered the entire room, not to mention the boys. The youngest, JayJay, was crying about a splinter. Jack glared around the room, staring intently into the faces of each older Newsie. Not one met his eyes. Jack comforted the crying child, then sent him to the bunk room to nap.

As soon as his footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, Most of the newsies made a bee line for the door. They were stopped by an incoming Racetrack, The wide grin was wiped off his face, as he saw all the cowardly newsies about to bowl him over. Race stopped, and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "So...Which one of youse is gonna tell me whats goin on heah?" No one responded, and Race showed no inclination to move from the doorway. "Well?" again, no one answered.

"Well Race, since dese bummahs seem to have lost dere tongues, Ill tell ya whadds goin on. Dese idiots were doing something, I haven't figahed out what it was yet, but dey trashed da place. Dat aint so bad, except dat JayJay got hoit. It was only a liddle splintah, but he was cryin somethin fieahce., and wadd did dese morons do? Nothin! Dey left him ta cry in a coahnah while dey fought amongst demselves. Whaddya think of dat Race? I mean hes just a kid! He's been heah a month, give oah take a few days. Still scahed of his own shadow!"

Race, had not moved from his spot in the door. He was upset by the boys neglect and lack of attentiveness to the younger boy, but not nearly to the extent that Jack was. Jack had a soft spot for little kids, and he tended to go a bit over board. Well not a bit, a lot. It ran in the family.

Race had a very different approach at getting his message across. He took a leisurely drag from his cigar, and looked each boy in the face none of them could summon up the courage to look him in the eyes. When Race was happy, he couldnt stop talking. Silence was always a bad sign. He didnt lecture the already shamed newsies, he just said to them the words, they had been told when they became newsies. The words they had used to instruct new newsies. Basic knowledge no Newsie should have to hear twice. "Newsies, we takes care of auh own. We don't neglect each oddah, neglect is why wese heah, We don't do dat. Go sell."

The shamed newsies streamed out the door, most knew what neglect was like, had wounds no one had helped heal. They had been children let down by their parents, they understood.

After the evening edition, all had been forgiven and forgotten. The newsies were hanging in the dusty common area. "So what were youse doin anyways?" Race asked interestedly. "Well", Dutchy began, "Ya see, we just wanted ta make sumthin foah when Boidy and Twirlah came home. Wese missed seein dem around, and we wants ta let em know dat. Wese been missin Boidy's laugh and Twirlah's sweet smile." Dutchy stopped to watch the effects of his words. Jack and Pie's faces were both a brilliant shade of red. It was well known fact that Pie had had a crush on Birdy since well, no one remembered when. And Jack, now that was interesting. He'd sure kept that hidden before!

"Well anyways" Dutchy continued, "We was gonna build a pokah table, so wese don't hafta play on da floah no moah. Wese got all da wood, but someone heah", The majority of the room turned and glared at Snoddy, "Someone heah thought it was fiah wood and boined it all! So now wese aint got no wood no moah! Thanks ta Snoddy!" Snoddy broke in loudly, "Youse all didnt tell me da plan! If youda told me i woulda known! I didnt know!"

Jack couldnt help but laugh at Snoddy's predicament. He looked as though he wanted to hide under the rug. "don't worry about it! The goils aint expectin anythin anyways, well maybe a cleaner lodgin house with less wood chips'n'dust but dats it. And By the way, What were youse bummahs doin in my mail?

The room was soon filled with the stammered excuses of the Manhattan newsboys.

Even with the knowledge that he had only a day until he saw his sister again, Jack couldnt sleep. But he tried, Months ago, Jack had given up trying. He no longer tossed and turned in his bed, didnt see the point of wasting the hours. Not like there was anything to do while the boys slept anyways. But tonight was different. Tonight Jack actually tried to sleep. But a letter wouldn't solve all his problems.

As the sun came up the next morning, Jack felt awful. Then again, this wasn't new anymore. He always felt like this lately. Listless, worn out, just plain tired, and ill. He didnt have an appetite anymore, and no matter how much he forced himself to eat, he lost more and more weight. By now, Jack was merely a shadow of the famous strike leader.

The more days passed, the more ill he became. Weeks ago, Jack had been selling almost twenty four hours a day, now he could barely manage to stay on his feet for the morning edition.

_One more day,_ he thought to himself, o_ne more day. Then Birdy will be home, everything will be normal. Wont it? Of course it will Jack! Stop worryin so much! Nothins gonna happen between today and noon tomorrah. Its gonna be fine again. Just like old times._

But it was not to be. When you go without sleep, it causes your body to continually burn energy. It doesn't have that time to rest in between activities. Just like a machine, if the body doesn't get rest, it is going to burn out and shut down.

Jack's machine had burned out. His days of going without rest had finally caught up to him. Jack felt nothing, just a blissful numbness as he collapsed into the busy Manhattan street.

* * *

AHHHHHHHHH CLIFFY! moahahahah I'm soo evil. And If you don't review i might just... 


	13. Chapter 13

PART XIII 

Skittery was having a perfectly normal day. Well, as Normal as a Newsie's days ever were. He was standing outside, in the rain, yelling made up headlines at anyone who walked by. As usual, he was not in a good mood. Skittery never really understood why so many other newsies were always optimistic. Whether the cup was half empty or half full, you still had no money for food.

Skittery was just heading back to the lodging house, having no money to eat at Tibby's with the other newsies, when he tripped over something, and went flying headfirst into the street.

Picking himself up, Skittery brushed off his now sodden clothing, and turned to inspect whatever it was he had tripped over. The first thing that caught his eye was a stack of soaked newspapers, the ink running into the street. _That's odd, _He thought to himself. _Who would leave a stack of papers in the middle of the road? That's gotta be close to a full hundred! Who ever left those papes is sleepin on the street tonight, that's for sure. Why would you do that?. _Then Skittery noticed the blood mingling with rain in the nearby drain.

_Oh No! What its Snipes, or JayJay! Jack is gonna kill us if anything else happens to JayJay! What if its Les? Oscar loves picking on him. Well he loves picking on anyone who was involved in the strike, but Les is the only one who cant defend himself. _His heart filled with dread, Skittery followed the trickle of blood down the street.

Four feet later, the trickle had become a river. Whoever had been injured, was hurt very badly. Skittery, never the optimist, closed his eyes. He was sure that when he opened them, he would find himself face to face with a corpse. Skittery was a tough guy, but he had seen more than enough corpses in his lifetime. Memories of his family flooded his brain. _Rachel, Leah, Hannah, Rebecca, Mother, Jos-NO!_ Skittery forced his thoughts back to the present. He had spent enough time grieving, he wasn't going to remember them anymore.

Drawing a deep, raggedy breath, Skittery opened his eyes……

What do you think?

Am I mean enough to leave you hanging?

Heck Yes I am!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

REVIEW OR I WILL NEVER TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

psht no i wont but please review anyways! ino this chapter was ripoff but i wanted to get something up this week.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I only own Newsies in my mind.

XIV

Drawing a deep raggedy breath, Skittery opened his eyes….

Lying on the ground was the leader of the Manhattan Newsies. His blood, flowing through the drains down into the sewer. Skittery dropped to his knees and felt for a pulse, he found one, and breathed a sigh of relief. Jack was alive.

Forcing down the waves of nausea that flooded his senses, Skittery worked quickly. He pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around Jack's head, the source of the bleeding. Skittery saw his good friend Dutchy crossing the street, and enlisted his help. The two boys lifted Jack and carried him to the lodging house.

Skittery stayed with Jack, while Dutchy fetched Kloppman. The whole trip back, Skittery had been talking to Jack. Begging him, begging God, For Jack to stay alive. As Skittery fought his nausea and his fear for Jack, panic threatened to overtake him.

This was not the first time Isaac Jones had carried a bleeding body through the streets. This was not the first time he had stood outside a home, his own home, covered in the blood of another. Skittery, Isaac then, had been a very sheltered child; he never knew that his family was dirt poor. Never knew that his father was borrowing money. Even after he helped his father bury Rachel no one had told him. He didn't know later, either, not when any of them died, Leah, Hannah, Rebecca, or even Joshua, only a year old. When his mother died, Isaac's father fled, leaving only a letter. Isaac soon learned the cause of his family's troubles.

Isaac's family had lost everything when Isaac's father Aaron had been fired. The factory didn't need him anymore; he was too weak to be useful. Borrowing quickly became a habit. Aaron, ever the optimist had been certain and convinced many people, that a new job was just around the corner. The job never came, but the bills sure did.

Unable to pay the bills, Aaron had mortgaged his home, and sold almost all they owned. He even sold his unknowing daughters in marriage, to the sons of those he owed.

Aaron believed himself blessed to have four daughters more than ever before.

With these sacrifices, Aaron was able to pay all the men he had borrowed from.

Well, All but one. The last man he owed had lent him a huge sum. To be paid back with interest. Aaron refused to pay it, said the interest was too much. He had done everything he could, but he just didn't have the money. This was his fatal mistake. As Skittery's family soon learned, No One refused to pay back Tony Higgins.

His family had been picked off, one by one. First the oldest daughter, then the next, until finally even the baby had been killed. Isaac was the only safe one though. For Isaac and his father had never got along. Isaac was an optimist, even more than his father. He was a dreamer. Isaac preferred sitting idly with his head in the clouds, to more macho activities, and this displeased his father. Aaron had bragged to Higgins about the rest of his family, how he loved them. He had gone into lengthy detail about his daughter's beauty, the color of Rachel's eyes, the length of Leah's hair. Hannah was a wonderful seamstress, and Rebecca was the best daughter a man could ask for. Baby Joshua was a strong young boy, already just like his father. Throughout his long boasts, the oldest son was left out. So Isaac was safe.

After his father ran for his life, Isaac had become a newsie, abandoning his name and his optimism. But Isaac never felt safe again. Sure he hadn't been talked about, but Higgins had to know about him. Didn't he? What kind of Mafia hit man left people alive to spill his secrets?

Soon named Skittery, for his obvious fright of everything, and known for his pessimism. His trademark glass-half-empty-you're-born-life-stinks-then-you-die attitude kept Skittery from ever being disappointed. He had learned to hide the panic attacks that so often gripped him unexpectedly. But a body gushing blood from the head? Skittery Forced his mind back to the present, and leaned over a sewer drain and was violently sick.

Soon Kloppman and Dutchy ran out of the lodging house and carried Jack up to Kloppman's bedroom. Skittery felt so helpless. Useless, that's what he was. Skittery was almost sorry that Higgins hadn't known about him. Couldn't even save his best friend, Skittery became more and more convinced that he was bad luck. Every one around him was dying. And it was all his fault.

If he had been home earlier, he could have stopped the bleeding before Rachel died. Upon returning home from school, he saw her cold and lifeless form lying on the kitchen floor, her blood dripping through the ceiling of the apartment below them.

If Isaac had been home earlier, he could have stopped the bleeding, he thought. If he had stayed home that day, he could have protected her. She wouldn't have been shot.

If He had gone with her that day to the market, instead of sitting and being lazy, Rebecca would be alive. If he had gotten a job and helped his father make money, none of them would have needed to be killed in the first place.

Now Jack was dying. Jack, Jack who had found Skittery, Brought him to Kloppman, given Skittery a chance to earn his keep for once, not to be useless. Now Jack was dying, and it was Skittery's fault. If only he had woken early to sell with Jack, If only he had taken Broad Street instead of King Street, he would have arrived quicker. If he had listened to his mother, he would have known how to properly bandage a wound, he should have been able to stop the bleeding! If only he, If only, If only, If only.


	15. Chapter 15

After what seemed to Skittery an eternity, Dutchy emerged. "Skitts Go Get Race. Then Dave and Sarah but…. but.. Don't let 'em bring Les..I..I don't want Les to see him."

Then Dutchy was gone.

Skittery ran, his memories only adding to his determination to get to Race in time. Even if Dutchy couldn't find a doctor, Race needed to say goodbye. Skittery hadn't gotten to for most of his family, and it hurt.

So Skittery ran to the only place Race could possibly be in the middle of the day. He looked for Race at Sheepshead. Once at the tracks, Race was easy to spot. Yelling ficticious headlines in his thick accent and clashing clothes, Race stood out from the crowd.

Race stopped as soon as he saw Skittery. Needless to say, he was surprised, Skittery usually stayed as far from the tracks as he could. Said he was bad luck. So seeing Skittery come dashing into Sheepshead sure made Race sit up and pay attention.

He stopped when he reached Skittery. "Heya Skitts how's it—

It was then that Race noticed Skittery's face, an unnatural shade of grey. He also saw for the first time, the way Skittery's hands shook. "Wha—Race began, but Skittery cut him off. "Jack" was all he said before Racetrack began backing away in horror, staring at Skittery. He turned and ran. Only then did Skittery look down to see his clothes, once brown and grey, now red with Jack's blood.

After Running from doctor to doctor, Dutchy gave up and accepted the bitter truth. No one cared that a boy was dying. No doctor was rushing to Jack's aid. They cared more about cash upfront than saving the boy. The problem was that the newsies didn't have any money.

Walking dejectedly towards the lodging house, feeling like a failure, Dutchy ran into someone. "OOF" I'se soahhy Mistah! Really I is!" Yelled Dutchy, and turned to run. But the man grabbed Dutchy's arm. "Dutchy! Wait!" "Denton?", Dutchy asked, recognizing the man, "Look, sorry but ise gotta go! Jack's gonna die because I cant find a doctor or money to pay foah one. I at least gotta you know", Duchy broke off, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. he sniffled quietly and went on, his voice wavering, "You know, Gotta be with him a'foah he goes." Dutchy turned and fled, ashamed lest Denton see the tears now streaming from his eyes.

Denton stared after him for a moment, just thinking. Then, making a decision, Denton turned on his heel and charged into the doctor's office that Dutchy had just left.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((9

Dutchy and Race ran into each other at the lodging house, literally. "Hey Scabbah! Watch were youse goin" Race spat angrily. Then seeing Dutchy's face and the defeat in his eyes, noting that there was no doctor near, Race punched Dutchy squarely in the jaw and walked quickly up the stairs to Jack's room.

In Jack's room, Race was astounded at the amount of blood he saw. It soaked the bedclothes completely, and still flowed from Jack's body. "What happened Klopp?" Race whispered, his voice barely audible. "We don't know, Racetrack, Skitts found him, he and Dutchy carried him back. Looks like he hit his head pretty hard on something. I can't make it stop bleeding. Is that doctor here yet? We sure need him." Kloppman asked anxiously, his concern for Jack evident on his face. "He's uhh… He ain't comin Klopp. No doc cares about a poor boy who can't pay foah no doctah."Race muttered, he had just realized this fact, now he was angry. Angry at money loving fools, angry at Dutchy and most of all angry at himself for being angry at Dutchy. It wasn't Dutchy's fault. The hot waves of anger just kept coming.

He sat by Jack's bed and watched him, hating seeing Jack in pain, but Race knew he could never live with himself if he left. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. In walked David, his arm around a sobbing Sarah. Skittery followed, looking even more shell-shocked than he had earlier. When he laid eyes on Jack, his grey face turned a sickly shade of green. Race quickly grabbed a bucket and looked away as Skittery violently heaved into it.

Skittery, David, and Racetrack sat by Jack's bed as Skittery struggled to tell them the tale of finding Jack in the street. Race told Kloppman of Jack's insomnia problem and the boys sat in silence, while Sarah cried.

Suddenly, a doorway burst open. In walked a doctor. He seemed very confused buy he said he was there to see a Jack Kelly. In response to questions, he only stated that he had been sent to tend the boy, by "Some Reporter man".

As he examined Jack, the newsies waited anxiously, hoping against hope. The only sound in the room was the doctor's mutters. Even Sarah had ceased her desperate weeping.


	16. Chapter 16

While the newsies waited, Jack was struggling to wake. He could hear their voices, and Sarah's sobs. He wanted to speak to them, comfort them, hug Sarah, assure them he was fine. But Jack's eyelids were so heavy. And his limbs refused to move. Jack soon found himself falling into darkness, his friends voices drowned out by the unpenetratable blackness that surrounded him.

The day of Jack's funeral was bright and sunny. The sky, the perfect white clouds, even the green grass mocked Jack's friends. Laughing at their misery, smiling at their pain. The funeral was held in a fancy church, something Jack would have found highly amusing, had be been around to share in the joke. For Jack had never set foot in a church in all the time he had been a newsie. Too angry at god for the collapse of his family, his father's imprisonment, and his mother's death to ever consider going back.

It was an odd sight to be sure, the finest church in the city was filled with street rats. Newsies, homeless, crooks and gangs, all gathered in a church for perhaps the only time in their lives. The governor had paid for the funeral, a last tribute to the memory of "Cowboy Kelly, esteemed Strike leader and savior of the newsies, Protector of the children" Or so Roosevelt's speech had read.

Sarah was sobbing into David's shoulder. Racetrack was holding a dry eyed Birdy, who seemed to be in shock. Arriving one day too late, Birdy had never gotten to say goodbye to her twin, or to apologize for leaving.

She and Race had reconciled and the two were very much in love, but something was missing. There was a void now, an emptiness that had not been there before. Two broken hearts were trying to mend each other. Neither believed they could ever fully heal. They were two puzzles, both missing the same piece. But it had been snatched away and the hole would always remain.

Dutchy still hated himself for not finding a doctor fast enough. He was incredibly thin, had to be convinced with every bite that he deserved to eat. Dutchy didn't believe he had the right to live when Jack had died. The boy's clothes hung on him, making him look emaciated, a mere shadow likely to vanish in the light of one more day.

Skittery hadn't come to the funeral. He couldn't handle one more death. Couldn't take the pity, the crying, the speeches. He had been to five funerals. Wasn't that enough?

By far the most tragic sight in the room was that of a girl, standing in a corner, alone in the crowd. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks as she wills herself to move towards the casket, terrified to say goodbye. Twirlah isn't only losing Jack. She has lost part of herself as well, the innocence, the faith. She has lost her optimism and faith. Twirlah no longer believes in fairy tales, no longer has faith that dreams really do come true.

* * *

Please do not shoot me

I swear on the grounds of brooklyn that this is not the end


	17. Chapter 17

Without you

The hand gropes

The ear hears

The pulse beats

Without you

The eyes gaze

The legs walk

The lungs breathe

The mind churns

The heart yearns

The tears dry

Without you

Life goes on

But I'm gone

Cause I die

Without you

It was a broken group that left the lodging house the next morning. Sales were high, Once again, the newsies had made the front page. No one had the heart to sell. Selling a paper meant glimpsing the picture adorning the front page. Selling fifty had a newsie sitting down on a street corner to cry.

So they sat on street corners. For some anger was the dominant reaction. Kid had always possessed an angry streak, he was was the first to leave. He moved on, took out his anger in a new job splitting wood for railways in Oregon. Kid left in his wake, a distraught and lost Mush. The two had always been the best of friends, Mush's passiveness keeping Kid's temper in check. But Kid was always the leader, dominating Mush's indecisiveness. Now that Kid was gone what would Mush do next?

Dutchy was dying; He was almost out of time. As time passed, he ate less and less, always took the hardest selling places, where he knew he wouldn't make much money. Dave had been the one who made him eat, convinced him he was worthy to put food in his mouth. But Davey was gone now, gone back to school. Jack had been his only true friend, so Dave had no reason to stay. When Dave left, no one forced Dutchy to eat. He hadn't left the lodging house in days. Kloppman stopped charging him rent. The nickel a day wouldn't make that much of a dent in Kloppman's income. It was the least he could do to let the boy die in peace, a bed with his friends nearby. The old Man refused to let a young boy die alone on the streets.

Skittery had given up hope. Or maybe his bad luck had caught up with him; there wasn't really any way to tell. Either way, his body washed up on the docks in Brooklyn a few days after Jack's death.

All the newsies took Jack's death hard, but only a few let their pain control them. The rest of them still hurt, still missed Jack, but they learned to move on. Most of the newsies like Snoddy, Pie Eater, Tumbler, Itey, Specs and Jake, went back to selling. The younger ones fought more, and the older ones drank more, but life went on.

Racetrack missed his best friend every day, and his heart ached whenever he thought of Jack. On every street, around every corner, was another memory, another wave of sadness threatening to hit him. Racetrack couldn't move on when everything about his life reminded him of Jack. Race tried to drown his pain in alcohol. For Racetrack, gambling and drinking don't mix well. He would have continued on in his path of destruction for a long time, it might even have killed him, had it not been for Birdy. When Racetrack hit rock bottom, Birdy was there to help him back up. Together, they faced their pain and in time, it faded, though in their hearts no one would ever replace Jack. They would carry his memories forever. They learned to cherish the good times they had, Race with his best friend, and Birdy with hers. She would move on but no one could ever take the place of Birdy's brother.

Birdy's best friend on the other hand, had no one to comfort her. Twirlah was for the most part, alone. She and Birdy were the other girl newsies still living with the Manhattan boys. Twirlah couldn't blame Birdy for being wrapped up in her own live, after all it was Birdy's twin brother who had died. On top of that, Birdy was constantly worried about Racetrack. No, Twirlah couldn't really blame her friend for not noticing Twirlah's loneliness, but deep down Twirlah envied her friend.

Sure sometimes Racetrack was a pain, having a gambler and borderline alcoholic for a boyfriend was tough to deal with, but Racetrack helped Birdy too. She didn't envy Birdy the additional pain and worry she carried. It was the middle of the night, when Twirlah was jealous. It was when she felt the bunk moving as it shook with the force of Birdy's sobs. Twirlah could hear the footsteps as Racetrack crept across the cold floor to comfort Birdy. It was when she heard Birdy's sobs quiet as she listened to Race's reassuring words that Twirlah was jealous.

In the middle of the night when dreams troubled her, when a memory of Jack would fill her with grief, when her pain became too much to bear, Birdy had someone to run to, Someone who would comfort her, dry her tears, hold her, share her pain. This was what Twirlah envied for Twirlah had no one. When nightmares awoke her in the middle of the night, there was no one to console her. She had friends yes, but Twirlah wanted more than that. When She was over come by grief, she had no one. She cried her tears silently, alone in her anguish.

Then one day there was someone. He was a nice boy, a newsie from Queens. They had probably seen each other dozens of times, hawking headlines, dancing at Medda's but neither paid any thought to the stranger passing by, until one day they stopped. He flashed a smile and asked her name. For the first time since Jack's death, Twirlah's heart raced. She got that warm-tingly-nervous-but-excited-shy-daring-silly-cautious-floating-wonderful-nautious-butterflies-feeling again. It was the feeling she used to get when Jack walked into a room, when he smiled, when he said hello. But Unlike Jack, This boy noticed her. Unlike Jack, this boy, Beat, sought her out, Asked for her name, asked for a dance. Unlike Jack, Beat, A) Was alive, and B) cared about her. To Twirlah, that's all that mattered.

Their wedding day dawned bright and clear. For once, the newsies weren't working. Twirlah had fallen head over heels for the quiet newsboy with blue eyes, a quick wit, and a love for music. Best of all, Beat had fallen head over heels for her. Beat would love and care for her until the end of eternity. Never again would Twirlah watch from afar and cry blonde when she was passed over for some other girl. When asked by the pastor, Twirlah gave a wholehearted, "I Do."

As the years passed, Twirlah and Beat grew up. Their three children, Lydia, William and Timothy, were the best of friends and the worst of enemies with Birdy and Race's kids, Rachel, Louisa, and Andrew. Beat was now known as Tim, to his friends, or Mr. Quinn to the Students at the local high school, where he taught music. Her little students knew Twirlah, whose real name was Jess, simply as Mommy. Racetrack had become a jockey and loved it. After an early retirement due to injury, he and Birdy had taken over the lodging house from Kloppman. They now ran the lodging house and spent their days keeping dozens of newsboys off the streets, and their nights making sure those dozens of newsboys were in by 11:00.

Race and Birdy still thought about Jack on occasion, still missed him every once and a while, but to Twirlah he was a fading memory. Jack was simply a crush; a boy who didn't share her feelings, never loved her. There were no memories to save; So Twirlah forgot about him, he was remembered only as Birdy's brother. Jack Kelly vanished from Twirlah's memory, along with childhood squabbles and yesterday's headline.

Fin.

This fic makes me sad and my best friend will probablyly hate me now. But I have a hard time with fluff. Please review.


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